


100th

by YourPalYourBuddy



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Minor Angst, One Shot, Originally Posted on Tumblr, happy birthday bucky, short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 12:14:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10217768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourPalYourBuddy/pseuds/YourPalYourBuddy
Summary: The first time you’re seven and he’s turning nine. You don’t know what to give him really; there isn’t much money at home and the last frog you gave him ran off, so there's not much to do.You find baseball cards though, his favorite team, in the alley behind the grocer’s, and they put the moon in his eyes. It's a good gift.______________A collection of Bucky's birthdays, from Steve's perspective.





	

The first time you’re seven and he’s turning nine. You don’t know what to give him really; there isn’t much money at home and the last frog you gave him ran off, so there's not much to do. 

You find baseball cards though, his favorite team, in the alley behind the grocer’s, and they put the moon in his eyes. It's a good gift. 

 

The fifth time you're eleven and he's turning thirteen. It's still hard to find something, more so because somehow you've managed to find the perfect thing every other time. He says he doesn't need anything and you believe him; he's the kind of person to say that and mean it, every time. But the thing is, you think to yourself in the kitchen, he's the kind of person who deserves it even more just because he always says he doesn't need anything. 

It's not so much the needs as it is the wants, you reason, and that's why you ask your mother for help with cookies. 

 

The eleventh time you're seventeen and he's turning nineteen. You've got an idea for this present but you're nervous; your mother asked you where you were going so dressed up and you said dancing, which isn't a lie, and yet. Your gift lies outside of dancing. You get to the dance hall and he's there with a girl and something curls inside your chest. In your head it's like a dragon wrapping around your gift to him, and you think about leaving. But then he smiles and pushes away from her to come to you, and when you hug him he lingers and you're very much aware of his hands between your shoulders and on your lower back. He says something about your outfit and says you look sharp and that's enough to make you stay. 

Your gift is a kiss on his cheek and his cheek under your lips feels like a beginning of something. You talk soft about birthdays and the passing of time and you say, “Think we’ll make it to a hundred?” It’s a lofty number, especially for you, and he says, “’Course” as easily as he says anything.

And you give him a sketch you drew while he played with one of his switch knives, and the look on his face is everything. You should've brought your sketchbook is what you’re thinking, to capture his expression, but then he kisses you full on the mouth, your first kiss, and your first thought is that you want to live this first. 

 

The seventeenth time you're twenty-three and he's turning twenty-five. There's a war on now; it's mixing with the blood in your veins, the fact of it. It's a call like you've only ever associated with him. 

This year neither of you wants to think about it. It’s a few months in and both of you know that the other is going to try for it, but for today, your gift is an escape from that. You take him to the movies and afterward you're holding hands when he pulls you close, and the war is the furthest thing from your mind then.

 

The twentieth time you're twenty-six and he'd be turning twenty-eight. He won't be. And you can't get drunk now to forget that he'll never be. The war is the only thing on your mind now.

 

The twenty-first time you're ninety-six and he'd be turning ninety-eight. You've only been awake for a little while but it's enough to know that the world isn't the same without him.

But you knew that already. 

 

The twenty-third time, you're ninety-eight and he's turning one hundred, but you don't think he knows that. Not sure how he would; T’Challa tells you he was flatlining two days ago, that they had to take him out of cryo and use electric shocks. His heart’s beating now, T’Challa says, but he hasn’t woken up.

It’s okay. You’re sitting by his bed, head bowed, holding one of his hands. He’s alive and he’s next to you, that’s what matters.

His eyes flutter while you look at him, and you hope he’s having good dreams. You’ve got a small box in your pocket and you keep holding his hand while you pull it out.

“That for me?” he says. His voice is rough and sleepy. You turn and take the cup of water on his bedside and press it into his hand. He takes a sip. “Doesn’t answer my question, Rogers.”

You say, “Didn’t think it was the best time yet.”

He’s so tired you don’t know that he’ll remember this in the morning. “It’s never the best time,” he says. You haven’t seen him open his eyes yet. “It’s never the best time with us.”

“I know.” You start putting the box back in your pocket. His grip tightens on your hand, and now he looks at you and it’s so soft you’re almost crying.

“Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t,” he says, and pats the bed next to him.

He’s warm next to you. He lets you pull him close to your chest and you let your head rest against the pillow. He exhales softly like he’s going back to sleep.

“You don’t have to today,” he says, yawning. “Or next week, or in a year, or whatever. But I’ll say yes.” You kiss the top of his head and he smiles a little. “You know I will.”

“Okay,” you whisper. “Okay,” but he’s fallen asleep, and then you fall after him.

**Author's Note:**

> Heya! Today's Bucky's 100th birthday, so I wanted to write something a little short but hopefully a little sweet too. I'm not sure if their ages are correct; I couldn't find the post where the author laid out their timeline, but near as I could figure this is pretty close to being accurate. Correct me if I'm wrong, though; I'd greatly appreciate it.
> 
> I'm on Tumblr! [Come say hi :)](http://untiltheendofthelinebuck.tumblr.com)


End file.
